Before We Fall
by Sveedish Chef
Summary: Here there be dragons! … and trolls, dwarves, Vikings, outlaws, a bit of historical context, not too much romance, a fair amount of Hiccup, lots of magic, and a host of wild things that walk Asgard, Midgard, Hel, and everything in between…
1. Algiz

**A/N: Here there be dragons! … and trolls, dwarves, Vikings, outlaws, a bit of historical context, not too much romance, a fair amount of Hiccup, lots of magic, and a host of wild things that walk Asgard, Midgard, Hel, and everything in between… **

**This takes place after the movie, when all the happy sunshine that we were left with has disappeared and been replaced by those nine months of snow Hiccup mentioned. **

**For fun, chapters are named after runes.**

**I disclaim.**

**Before We Fall**

**Ch.1: Algiz**

"Up! Up, you lot! Time ta get movin! Come on, sleepyheads, are ye all alive?"

"If by 'sleepyheads' you mean 'still-sleepy-in-the-head-because-it's-too-cold-to-get-any-sleep-out-here', then yes, we've managed to survive another night without our blood freezing in our veins," grumbled Hiccup, dragging himself out from under his shelter. "Gobber, I thought you said we'd be warmer if we used spruce branches."

"What, you weren't warm?" Their teacher was poking at a small fire, looking way too cheery, given the weather, and the moods of his students.

"Warm?" groaned Ruffnut, pulling herself out from under her pile of spruce branches, dried leaves, and bark. "What's that?"

"I was warm," Fishlegs fairly chirped, as he tried to untangle himself from his den. "I think all those spruce branches made a difference."

"There, ya see?" said Gobber, gesturing to the young Viking. "Fishlegs used more than you lot. Ya can't just throw a few branches over yer shelter and expect to be nice and toasty. If you want ta be warm, ya have ta _mean_ it. Plus, it helps havin' some extra layers of bodily insulation. Me an' Fishlegs know that. You all need ta eat more meat. 'Specially you, Hiccup, yer like a walkin'– "

"Toothpick, yes, I know. Thank you for reminding me." He joined Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Fishlegs, Snotlout, and Astrid as they all gathered around Gobber's little fire. This was their third morning out in the woods with Gobber; their third morning of rising from the individual makeshift shelters that were supposed to be keeping them warm at night.

"Alright. Third day; more about huntin'. After breakfast we'll continue our search for game. I'll teach ya how ta skin it, butcher it, smoke the meat, use the organs and bones, and how ta prepare the hide. Right? Sound exciting? Everyone grab your bows and arrows we made yesterday; let's get a move on," Gobber finished, and started to get up.

"Wait, what about breakfast?" asked Snotlout.

"Oh, right. Breakfast," said Gobber, pausing. "That's when you break your fast with food you've got saved up for just such an occasion. Anybody got any smoked grouse? Salted codfish? Oysters? Beaver tail? Moose tongue?"

Hiccup's stomach grumbled angrily. "Gobber, I'm pretty sure if I return from this trip skinnier than when I left, my father will not only kill you but he'll make me eat a slab of bear fat."

"Right, right. You don't really think I'd let ya starve, now?" Gobber sat back down and riffled through his bag. "I've got some jerky in here somewhere. But," he said, straightening up and eyeing them, "let this be a warning. This is why it's important to learn these things early on: self-sufficiency and resourcefulness will save ya when yer out in the woods alone. We Vikings like our community interdependency, but you've got ta be prepared. Huntin's a basic skill you've all got ta learn."

The jerky was tough and tasteless, but Hiccup hadn't expected anything more. They packed up their small amount of belongings and began to creep through the woods. This was harder than it sounded, because the first snowfall of the year, two days ago, had hardened, and now any step they took was accompanied by an obnoxious _crunch_. Somehow Astrid was managing to move relatively silently, her bow and arrow at the ready. Hiccup eyed her enviously; her balance was so precise. His metal foot was slippery on top of the icy crust; when it wasn't slipping, it was punching through and getting stuck. And this morning it was starting to squeak again.

"Hiccup," said Gobber, coming up behind him, "wait a tic. You lot, keep creepin', we'll catch up." Astrid threw a brief look of concern over her shoulder, gave Hiccup an encouraging grimace, and then continued, passing out of sight behind a bushy spruce.

"Hiccup my lad, you'll have a few more things ta worry about than the rest of them when yer stuck in the wilderness. For instance," he said, digging a little bag out of his pocket, "bear grease. Ya can't be squeakin' like that when yer tryin' ta hunt. Handy for cookin', protection against the wind, keepin' the bugs out of yer hair in the summer, and greasin' up them squeaky joints," he said, gesturing to his own left appendage. He handed the parcel to Hiccup, who pulled off his gloves. "You keep that one for now. Also, we should think of puttin' together more of a peg-like attachment for ya, so yer foot don't keep getting snagged under the crust."

"What about a snowshoe-ish thing?" Hiccup asked, carefully greasing the offending iron joints.

"Aye, a snowshoe-ish thing… I've tried that once or twice. Hard as Hel ta keep yer balance with a big clumsy circle strapped on, when ya don't have an ankle. But, you've got more of a knee than I do. Maybe ya could figure somethin' out, who knows."

"I heard more noises last night," said Hiccup, wiping his hands across his jacket.

"Oh, yer in the woods, what do ya expect ta hear?"

"Well, these were, like, roaring and bellowing."

"Could've been anythin'. Stags, wolves, bears, errant dragons, Tuffnut getting' attacked by a wild shrew…"

"Gobber!" Snotlout's voice cut through the woods.

"What?" Gobber called.

"We found a _bear!_"

"Hooo boy," said Gobber grimly. "Come on, Hiccup."

"Wait, didn't you tell us _not_ to go after bears if we're alone?"

"Yep. This bear must be dead already, though, or we'd be hearin' screams."

The two of them hobbled towards Snotlout's voice, following the converging footsteps ahead of them. The twins, Fishlegs, Snotlout, and Astrid all stood in a cluster, eyeing a dark hump that sat a few yards off.

"Well I'll be a barnacle," breathed Gobber, and stepped up to the animal. Hiccup followed, half behind his mentor. This was by far the biggest bear Hiccup had ever seen in his life, which wasn't saying all that much. But still – it was huge. Its paws were almost twice the size of Hiccup's head. Any of its claws could have skewered him through, and its teeth, shining from a death-snarl, made his blood run cold – colder than it already was. Even though it lay on its side, Hiccup couldn't see over its massive shoulder.

Gobber kicked at the snow around its head; chips of bloody ice skittered towards the other students.

"Wow," said Fishlegs, which was about the only thing Hiccup could think of to say too.

"Now this is a bit strange," murmured Gobber, prodding at the bear's neck with his right hand. He searched the bear's face, its chest, walked around the downed animal. "The only thing that could have killed a bear this size would be a bigger bear, a loner dragon, wolves, or a group of Vikings. If it were a dragon or wolves, the meat would have been eaten. If it were another bear, there'd be some mauling. And if Vikings had done this we would have heard about it."

"What if the Vikings weren't from Berk?" asked Tuffnut.

"Don't be silly. We're alone on this island. Apparently Berk hasn't seen any other humans since we landed seven generations ago. Besides, if people had done this they would have harvested everything they could have – meat, bones, grease, guts, tendons… and boy, what a hide! It's not everyday you come across a pelt like that! It'd keep a whole family warm!"

"Well maybe it just died of old age," said Tuffnut.

"No, stupid, there's blood," said Ruffnut.

"It's throat's been slit," announced Gobber, before the twins could get any further. "And it's been here since before the snow fell. No pawprints." Gobber appeared to be thinking, absently popping his stone tooth in and out of its socket. "Clean cut. Had to have been a blade. I have no idea who could have… or would have… done this. But! Mysteries aside, this job is too big for us to do with the time we've got. I told yer parents that I'd have ya back by tomorrow. If we did a proper job with this bear we'd be returnin' a day later – it's near impossible to deal with a frozen carcass. Can't have that. He'll keep. I'll come back out here with a group of men and we'll haul him in. But for us, right now, we want to start with something a bit smaller."

Though Hiccup had a bit of a hard time 'sneaking' through the woods, his aim with bow and arrow was surpassed only by Astrid's, and just barely. He managed to hit a wild pig three times before the charging animal stumbled and fell to the ground, not four yards from where he stood. He finished it off with his knife, which thankfully he'd kept sharp. Killing animals was something they'd all done before – fish, chicken, cattle, sheep. Hiccup had always felt bad doing it, but in the climate they lived, if they wanted food they had no other choice.

Upon returning to the village the next day, Gobber fairly dumped them in the town square before rounding up a bunch of men to fetch the bear.

"Can we come?" asked Fishlegs, with the twins and Snotlout behind him.

"Aahm, you'd best stay here," said Gobber, eyeing the group. "You all need to get some sleep. I've a feeling you're all a bit deprived. Now, you men: we need rope, lots of rope." Gobber and his bunch left on their search, and Fishlegs and the rest headed towards the houses. Hiccup sat down on a stone bench.

"Hiccup," said Astrid excitedly, "I'll bet if we asked, Gobber would let us go with!"

"Yeah… _Why_ would you want to go with, again?"

"The experience! It's not every day you get to deal with a _bear!_" Astrid's hair was sticking out in a small amount of disarray, her eyes wide and kind of sunken from lack of sleep. Hiccup smiled. Of course she wanted to go with. She took every opportunity to learn that she could.

"Sounds like fun, Astrid. Gobber would probably be happy to…"

"You don't want to go?"

"Nah, I'm… I'm tired. And hungry. I need to grow a layer of fat for the winter. That takes time, you know. I shouldn't be frolicking around in the woods when I could be eating butter." She was eyeing him, and he wondered if she'd see through his excuse. She usually did.

"Your leg?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, hanging his head.

"Bad?"

"No, I just… it's still healing." He didn't like admitting his pain – Vikings were supposed to be tough – but Astrid was not one to judge. He hauled himself up, wanting to change the subject.

"I have a snowshoe to work on, anyways."

"Good. You do that." She grabbed the front of his jacket and gave him one of her usual quick kisses, more force than sweetness, and then she was running away, after Gobber. "Be back tomorrow!" she called.

After one of his favorite people disappeared down the path, he turned to go visit one of his other favorite people. (Dragons were people, too.) Lately, Toothless had been staying down in the dragon pens, where they used to keep the training dragons locked up. Hiccup had been worried that Toothless would be like other reptiles, and have to hibernate through the coldest months (which they were now entering), so he and Astrid had made up the pen with a few armloads of hay. Toothless liked it down there, and it kept Stoick happy – the dragon was too big to maneuver in the house. But, it quickly became apparent that Toothless's blood stayed hot, even as the temperatures dropped.

"Toothless?" Hiccup called cautiously, peering around the ring. Maybe Toothless was sleeping on the hay. "I'm back…" He fully expected Toothless to come winging out of some hiding place and ram into him. Toothless always did that after more than a day of being apart, and Hiccup always ended up falling over, and his leg was never ok with that. "Buddy? Toothless, are you in there?"

To his surprise, he heard a happy grumble before Toothless trotted out to meet him, hay still clinging to his scales. The dragon nuzzled him gently, tail thrashing, obviously trying hard to contain his excitement.

"I missed you too, buddy!" Toothless pulled away, and pranced in a circle around him, eyes sparkling, chirping and burbling. The dragon gestured to the leather saddle, hung on the door to his pen. Toothless was probably eager to take to the skies; it had been days, after all. Inwardly, Hiccup groaned; he was tired, a little hungry, and his leg wanted to rest. But Toothless looked too excited. Besides, he told himself, he had a responsibility. Dragons needed to fly, and this one couldn't do that without a rider. "Alright, alright. Come on."

Once in the air, Hiccup hugged Toothless's warm back. Flying was decidedly less pleasant in the winter, especially when the air was moist. Toothless must have known that, and kept to the less foggy areas above the forest. Still, even with the wind freezing the tears from his eyes, Hiccup felt himself drifting off. He sat up straighter, letting the wind pierce his jacket and drill through his ears. Sleeping while flying was particularly unsafe, for both of them.

"I'm falling asleep!" he called, taking a tight grip on the harness. "Do something exciting!" Toothless plunged towards the treetops and pulled up at the last second, Hiccup adjusting the tail piece. The wind froze his teeth when he grinned, and he tried in vain to keep his smile contained. Straight up now, and then a steep bank back towards the sea stacks, several loops that almost upset Hiccup's already-grumpy stomach, and then soaring above Berk. They swooshed low to the streets, past Stoick, who waved, and then back up and over the trees, hitting some last rays of sun before nightfall. The dragon was flying hard, burning energy, and Hiccup clung helplessly, face pressed to the black scales. He couldn't hear a thing past the harsh wind, but he imagined he could almost hear the dragon's heartbeat beneath his ear. He could definitely feel it.

The heartbeat changed, gave the slightest flutter, and Toothless suddenly whipped around, stalling in the air. The dragon stared into the woods.

"What is it?" Hiccup asked, peering through the spruce and spindly white fingers of birch. He couldn't see anything. Toothless soared slowly now, and Hiccup could hear the wind bending the trees underneath them, and—

Something howled. It was a sound Hiccup had never heard before. Something like what he'd been hearing in the woods those last few lonely nights, but louder, longer, more hollow and more wild. It made the hairs on his arms stand on end, and it was making Toothless's scales prickle and his ears flatten.

It didn't sound again, even though they scoured the ground from above. Briefly, Hiccup wondered if Astrid and the others had heard it, if they were safe. Then he remembered her back in dragon training, shrieking like a Valkyrie and swinging her axe. She would be fine.

Toothless glided back down to the training ring. Stiff and covered in a fine layer of ice crystals, Hiccup carefully unclipped the harness and lowered himself to the ground, taking the saddle and harness with him. He hung the gear on the wall and turned to the dragon. Toothless's ears were pricked suspiciously towards the woods.

"It was probably just a… a wolf or something, Toothless. Nothing harmful." He didn't believe what he was saying, though. Whatever had made that noise was most certainly not harmless. "Well, it'll stay in the woods, at least. Don't worry about it."

Toothless wasn't taking Hiccup's advice.

"Well… Let me know if the village is attacked by a bunch of trolls, ok? I really need to go sleep." He gave an unresponsive Toothless a skritch behind the ear and turned to walk out of the ring.

Behind him, Toothless grumbled, and his great black head was suddenly blocking Hiccup's path.

"Toothless – "

The dragon nudged him back into the ring, eyes narrow.

"Toothless, I said I'm tired, I don't want to – " His protests were cut off by a deep, insistent whine. Obviously Toothless wanted something, and wasn't going to stop until he got it. Hiccup stopped resisting and let Toothless nudge him along. In a moment it was apparent that the dragon was pushing Hiccup to his pen, and when they passed through the door, he curled up expectantly, now only a mass of black shadow with winking teal eyes.

"You want me to sleep here tonight."

The dragon burbled. Toothless wanted to keep him safe.

"If I get cold, I'm leaving."

Of course he wasn't going to get cold, though – he knew it the second he laid his head against the fur of his bundled jacket, back pressed against his friend's rough hide. The dragon was like a giant lump of charcoal, heated by the blacksmith furnace. The small amount of light that still leaked into the pen from the last moments of twilight disappeared as a massive black wing folded over him, and a deep, gentle rumbling from the beast behind him made him forget about whatever was in the woods.

Sleep was wrenched out from under him while it was still dark out. Toothless was snarling and bumping him awake, his anxious lantern eyes the only things Hiccup could see at first. He stood, and immediately saw something outside, the dome above the ring – it was flickering , reflecting a fire from something, and now he could hear shouts, screams, crashings. It was like a dragon attack, but instead of the furious roars of dragons and the bellows of the Viking warriors, he heard women screaming, the surprised shouts of men, and a chorus of those long, wild, nameless howls.

Hiccup fumbled for the harness.


	2. Othala Merkstave

**Thank you, you first few reviewers! You make my heart glow in an ethereal, froggy sort of way.**

**Ch.2: Othala Merkstave**

_A pack of wolves?_ Hiccup wondered frantically as he tried to untangle the saddle from the harness. That didn't make any sense, why would a pack of wolves attack an entire village? And why were things on fire?

"Toothless, hold still, I can't get this…" The dragon was twitching and snarling, head flicking back and fourth, ears picking up too many sounds for him to hold still. He crept out of the pen and into the ring, looking around, and Hiccup followed. _Dragons?_ Hiccup thought, and managed to get the mess of hardware untangled. Dragons were about the only thing that could start a fire, but weren't they done with being attacked by dragons?

Something screamed above them, and before Hiccup could crane his head around to see, he heard a heavy _whump_ as something landed on Toothless's back. The dragon bucked, screaming out his fury, almost decking Hiccup before flinging the intruder to the ground. Hiccup tried to get a look at it, but Toothless was pushing between them, roaring and snarling.

As far as he could see, they were being attacked by a rabid bear rug. Then its axe caught the firelight and Hiccup realized it was indeed a human, draped in fur, wielding the biggest axe he'd ever seen in his life. The man bellowed and Hiccup involuntarily cowered away, letting Toothless face the beast. The dragon reared up as the man charged, axe swinging, Hiccup wondering why in the world one single man would take on an enraged dragon, and then the mass of bear fur was hit with a bolt of blue blaze. The man was knocked off his feet, clothing ablaze, and Hiccup breathed a sigh of relief.

The man got back up.

He was on fire, and Hiccup could smell seared flesh, but the mass of flame was still furiously howling, still grasping the axe, and now leapt at Toothless. The dragon reared back again, smacked the charging fireball across the chest with one massive paw, and let loose with a roar that made Hiccup press his palms to his ears. The fireball roared back – not nearly as impressive, next to Toothless's roar – and once more raised his axe.

Toothless fell upon the man, tooth and claw. The scene was all shadow, flame, and angry, sharp, snatches of axe and tooth glinting orange and flashing. In a moment toothless backed off, growling, the fiery mass on the ground finally stilled. Hiccup threw his gaze around the ring, wondering how many of those things were in their village right now. Their ferocity was only surpassed by Toothless's fury. They needed to go help.

"Toothless, we need to get up there." Toothless edged protectively around Hiccup, who stared at the dragon's face; his mouth was crimson. Hiccup had never seen Toothless kill another human before – if indeed that _had_ been a human – and the reminder of the dragon's awesome power made him a bit afraid of the enraged beast, but also boundlessly grateful for their friendship. Breathless, he grabbed the dropped equipment and got the red tailpiece snugged into place, when –

_Whump. _

Hiccup whirled around, heard Toothless's frustration. Another furry bulk had dropped into the ring. As he watched, three more jumped down, on different sides. They didn't wait to charge. There was no time to finish attaching things.

"We're gonna have to fly, buddy! Just like the first time!" He wrapped his legs around Toothless's tail, took a hold on the red fan, and yelled, "Go, Toothless!" The dragon's wings beat the air and they lifted off, Hiccup clinging, watching the ground fall away, watching the four creatures in the ring converge on the spot they'd just left, watching them wind back their arms and aim…

"They're gonna throw their axes! _Move_, Toothless!" And Toothless did, wings heaving, blasting through the dome. He could hear the axes whipping through the air before he could see them; one passed harmlessly, two yards away, another whizzed just below them. Hiccup didn't see the next one until it ripped the tip off the tailpiece, floundered, off-kilter, and smashed into his hand. Yelling, his hand involuntarily let go of the red fabric – he desperately hoped all his fingers were still there – and he could feel Toothless's path immediately start to spin. His hand was burning and slicked with red but Hiccup took hold again until the dragon could messily touch down. He rolled off the tail and stood. Toothless nudged him, eyes wide.

"I'm fine, bud. We need to…" To what? Find Stoick? Get to the front and start killing the befurred attackers? He didn't even know which direction to head, people were running everywhere, the women and children and armored men scrambling around, houses aflame a few paths down.

"Hiccup! There you are!" The relief in Stoick's voice warmed Hiccup's heart a little; so much better than the annoyed snarl he used to get. His father dropped to a kneel beside him, started to say something, and instead grabbed Hiccup's hand. "Son, are you hurt?"

"No. I mean yes, but it's fine. What's going on?"

"I don't know. They just came out of nowhere – "

"Stoick!" yelled a warrior, and Hiccup heard another howl. There, two more attackers approaching. A Viking charged up from behind them and swung his axe straight into the back of the biggest one; the man-thing only growled, reached around, took hold of the axe handle, and whipped it straight at Toothless. The dragon let out a mighty bolt of light, stopping the axe and burning the two intruders. They didn't stop.

"Dad, these guys are like impervious to pain, Toothless set one of them on fire and he didn't even flinch, I don't – "

"Thor's hammer!" his father breathed, and Hiccup thought he detected a trace of… fear? Surely his father wasn't _afraid_. Stoick the Vast was afraid of nothing.

"They're leaving!" someone yelled, and Hiccup tried to see over the vast bulk of Toothless. Indeed, it appeared that the two that had been advancing upon them were turning around… yes, they were dashing down the streets now, and their howls were fading a bit. Stoick, Hiccup, Toothless, and the other Vikings followed them from a distance, watched as the things left the city gates and disappeared into the woods.

"Should we follow?" a warrior asked.

"No."

"Dad, should Toothless and I go try to see – "

"No! You stay here. Everyone stays here. Where's Gobber?"

"He took a group out into the woods to get that bear, remember?"

"Aaahh, Fenrir's whiskers! The man has timing," Stoick growled, eyes smouldering as he scanned the woods. "Sigurd, Ulf, stand guard. Everybody else, help the wounded, find out who's missing, put out those fires. Hiccup, Valdemar, Knut, Ivar, come with me." Stoick powered up the street and Hiccup did his best to keep up. Now that the short skirmish had ended, he noticed that something was off with his metal foot, and something was poking the healing flesh. He didn't want to pause; Stoick and the others were already steps ahead of them.

Toothless, eyeing his obvious limp, nudged him from behind. Riding the dragon without a saddle or harness wasn't the comfiest thing in the world, but it was better than speed-limping.

"I won't wait to tell you all what's on my mind," Stoick was saying, and Hiccup leaned forward to hear better. Toothless picked up his stride a bit. "You all know the name of Harald Fairhair. He was the so-called 'leader' of Norway when my great-great-great-grandfather led this tribe away from his itchy fingers." Hiccup had heard bits of the story many times, especially in the last few weeks, after his father decided he was indeed proud of his son. Harald Fairhair had wanted to unite all the tribes of Norway under one kingdom. Of course, with such a politic, taxation was inevitable. The then-chief of their tribe had sailed away, along with many other tribes. His ancestor had found an island off the coast of Odin-knew-where, a place with poor soil, perpetual cold, nasty wind, and, of course, a nest of man-eating dragons. And he'd decided it was perfect. Harald, though he must have searched for the rest of his life, never found Berk. Nobody ever found Berk.

"But now," Stoick continued, powering down the streets, heading to the meeting hall, "somebody's found us. Men, you all know the stories about Berserkers." A general upset murmur told Hiccup that, yes, they all knew about Berserkers. The 'king's' men, who would wage war, pillage, plunder, ransack, rape, and kill on command. Or off command. It was said they drew their strength from Odin – the Cult of Odin, they were called – and their ferocity from wild beasts. They had the swiftness of wolves, the strength of bears, the senses of the wildcat.

"Who knows who their commander is now. Harald's descendent, the king of another land, I don't care. What I _do_ care about," and here he turned around to face his men, "is that they've found us, and they want to control us. The Berserkers are here to take us back to Norway, or at least force us to swear allegiance to the present king." Stoick turned back around, eyes smoldering. "We'll do no such thing. The Berserkers are the toughest fighters Norway has ever seen, but Norway hasn't seen _us_. We're _dragon_ fighters, not merely _bear_ fighters! With a good defense, we'll defeat them. We need to organize groups of – "

"_They're attacking!_" yelled a voice, echoing up the street, and Stoick whirled around. Hiccup's heart jumped, surprised and not at all sure that men trained in dragon-fighting would be any sort of match for Berserkers. He could feel Toothless tense beneath him, on edge.

"Back to the gate!" roared Stoick, and Toothless reared around to follow the group, ears plastered. When his father caught up to him, he reached one massive hand up to Hiccup's arm. "Son, I don't want you down there." Inwardly, Hiccup sighed.

"Dad, you let me fight the Green Death. Why can't I – "

"Because, you were our only hope then! Nobody else could have done what you did, because you had _him_!" Stoick gestured to Toothless, who had paused in the street. Hiccup beat back a grimace, trying not to take offense to his father's logic.

"You need Toothless now, too," he replied. "Did you see those Berserkers? They're almost invincible. They're like superhumans. I know you think your men can fight them because they're trained in dragon-fighting, but really?" Stoick's eyes fell a bit.

"I know, I know… I had to tell them _something_ to give them hope, though. I'm sure we can fight them, it's just… I made it sound easier than it would be."

"So you really do need Toothless."

"Hiccup – "

"And Toothless goes where I go. You know that."

"But son – "

"You're the chief, dad, you know it's for the best – "

"_Hiccup!_ I _know!_ But I just can't… I can't…" Stoick stopped, attention drawn by an outburst of shouting and crashes out by the gate. The howls of the Berserkers were coming to them clearly now. Stoick sighed, glanced at Hiccup's metal leg. "Son, if you get hurt, I'm…"

"Right, dad. I'll be careful. Toothless, let's go get our gear."

They made haste to the ring, and Hiccup worked as quickly as he could to get Toothless's equipment situated. They could hear the sounds of a battle going on down by the gate, and Hiccup knew that each second Toothless wasn't there was making it harder for the defenders. But his hands were shaking, he noticed, which was making it distinctly difficult to get all the hitches. He tried pushing away his nerves, but in vain. Sure, he'd 'fought' the Green Death. But that had been almost all Toothless. Berserkers were smart, though, or at least had human minds (he thought). They had strength in numbers, and some sort of otherworldly ability to brush off pain. And he'd just volunteered to ride Toothless around while the dragon attempted to destroy as many of them as possible… with eight shots of fiery lightning that the Berserkers didn't seem to blink at. Only eight.

"Toothless, buddy…" Hiccup sighed, and paused to gaze into the dragon's massive eye. Toothless was giving him one of those wide-eyed 'I'm-listening-to-you-because-I-love-you-and-you-bring-me-fish' looks. "If we get in trouble out there, you need to leave. This isn't your fight; remember that."

Toothless rolled his eyes. Briefly, Hiccup worried that Toothless thought it was indeed his fight. Thinking like that would get the dragon killed, and that was one of the last things Hiccup wanted. He put one foot up into the stirrup, and then stopped. _I suppose I could make myself useful_, he thought, and went to fetch a bow and some arrows from the old weapons rack, and a small sword. He didn't think a shield would do any good if a Berserker was bent on killing him.

Once they were in the air, it wasn't hard to see what was going on, despite it being the dead of night. The Berserkers had lit several boats and houses ablaze. They hadn't broken through the city gate yet – Berk's gates were made of stone.

"Alright, bud," Hiccup yelled over the rush of air, "Choose your targets wisely and aim well!" The dragon dove, and Hiccup tried to cling tight with one hand and not drop his bow. The sound of the Night Fury charging up for a hit made the warriors of Berk look to the skies, but it didn't seem to faze the Berserkers, if they heard it at all. Toothless fired close-range, blasting two of the attackers off their feet, and Hiccup didn't see if they got back up.

He nocked his bow and started pulling the string back, but stopped immediately. One, his hand, which he had forgotten about, gave a shock of pain at the sudden tension. Two, he realized he wouldn't be able to concentrate on both controlling Toothless's tail piece and aiming at his own target at the same time. Frustrated, he jammed the arrow back in the quiver and strung the bow across his chest. He'd have to leave all the fighting to Toothless, then, until they touched down. If they touched down.

Toothless dove again, charging up, and Hiccup changed the tail position, clinging low to the dragon's neck. Battle situations, he realized, made it a lot harder to collaborate with Toothless to fly properly. He wasn't sure where Toothless wanted to go next, and it was imperative that they were as coordinated as possible. He fired, knocked down more Berserkers, pulled up and away, and finally the attackers were beginning to notice their presence. Hiccup almost smirked at the thought that there was a small possibility he was actually striking fear into the hearts of the North's most deadly warriors, but the smirk never crossed his face.

They really _didn't_ want the Berserkers' attention, did they?

The first axe nicked Toothless in the side; shreds of black scale exploded in Hiccup's face. Hiccup tensed as they flew to the sky, and the sounds of the battle below them faded a bit. The sounds of axes flying past them became more obvious. Once the weapons no longer reached them, Toothless leveled off and Hiccup assessed the damage; the dragon's wound was only skin-deep, but he was sure that one well-aimed axe could do deadly damage. Looking down, he could make out the attackers, and they were… looking up? A number of them – twenty, thirty – had abandoned their wild attack on the gate and were now focused on Toothless. There were still a dozen or so hacking away at the stone wall and throwing axes at the warriors of Berk.

"Stay up here, bud. I know you've got perfect aim." Now that they were staying relatively level, Hiccup's attention was freed from working the stirrup. He nocked an arrow and took aim at the mass of Berserker, and fired, but couldn't see where the arrow went. He suspected that even if he managed to hit one of them, they wouldn't care much. Toothless's blasts were having _an_ effect, at least – after the eighth blast, the number of standing Berserkers had definitely decreased. Hiccup allowed a small amount of relief to creep into his gut – until a collective bellow floated up from the Berk side of the gate. He looked close, and saw that the Berserkers had somehow broken through the iron doors and gotten into the village, where the main body of warriors were. And…

"_Dad_!" Hiccup and Toothless acted as one, diving down to the street where someone had fallen, the huge warrior with crimson hair. Two of Stoick's men had come to help him, but there were three Berserkers advancing, and the closer Hiccup got, the easier it was to see that his father wasn't getting up. Toothless wasn't going to get there in time to prevent those three Berserkers from finishing him off; he had no shots left. Hiccup left the steering to chance and nocked another arrow, took hasty aim, and fired.

The arrow hit the neck of one of the advancers, stopping him in his tracks and sending him to his knees. The other two turned, and Hiccup caught the glimmer of fire in their eyes before Toothless jerked and let out a bellow that shook Hiccup to the core. The dragon spun, wings flailing, towards the ground outside of the gate. There wasn't time to pull up now. An axe had found its mark.

The ground was covered in Berserkers, and they ploughed through their ranks before hitting the ground and rolling to a stop. Hiccup clambered from the dragon's back, sword drawn, trying to see if Toothless was ok while eyeing the hordes of warriors and wondering if he was now an orphan. Toothless struggled onto all fours, growling, and it was too dark to see any damage, but something in the way Toothless crouched told Hiccup that he was hurting.

Six, seven, ten, twelve… more Berserkers by the second appeared in Hiccup's field of view. He was too terrified to loose his wit now – all he could do was hold tight to his blade and –

The first Berserker lunged, faster than Hiccup could follow, throwing his axe into Toothless's face, who dodged, swept out a massive, black claw and knocked the man into another one behind, and two others flanking, _what if Toothless can't defend himself?_ Hiccup swept the fearful thought out of his mind, of course the dragon could defend himself, he was a Night Fury, and Night Furies can defend themselves against even the most terrifying Berserkers, like that one with the double-headed battle axe, winding up for a blow – Hiccup struck out with his sword, shoved it deep into the side of the man's bearskin. The man didn't flinch, but his eyes moved from the dragon to Hiccup.

Toothless was flinging out his claws left and right now, tail flailing, teeth flashing, managing to keep the closing group at bay. Hiccup edged closer, pushed by the advancing Berserker, knowing that he couldn't do a thing to stop any of these men with his small sword, which he raised now to block a blow from the battle axe. The impact between the two weapons collapsed his elbow, resonated painfully in his bones, and the axe kept pressing with its oppressive weight, sending him to his knees.

Toothless let out a bellow, chomped down on the man's head, and wrenched. Instinctively, Hiccup threw up an arm to shield himself from flying blood, and heard the unmistakeable sound of steel on scale, of a direct blow through tough reptilian hide; the sound was followed by the Night Fury's roar, whirling around to face his attacker.

And then, before Hiccup's eyes, his whirling companion disappeared, all the fire disappeared, all light disappeared, all Berserkers and axes and blood gone. Rough, bristly hide pressed against his face, covering his eyes, and a coil of muscle, someone's forearm, choked out his voice, his sword was wrenched away and his hands forced up behind his back, twisting. Panic leapt in his chest but could not escape; he was immobilized, and he was being moved. At first he could feel ground running away beneath his feet as he was dragged, but soon he was hauled up off the ground. Kicking out with his metal foot, he caught something soft, someone yelled out, and for one moment he was almost free.

Then a blow, a split-second of sudden pressure on the back of his head, and he collapsed. He heard Toothless, an outburst of alarmed bellows, sounding far away, and farther away, and he was alone in the dark.


	3. Hagalaz

**A/N: Shortiesunited, Varsity Geekery, PixieGirl13 (btw, Pix, never apologize for long-winded reviews – everyone knows those are the best!), I really appreciate your comments on characterization – that's something I've always fought with a bit. I get ideas in my head and then sometimes characters run away from w hat they're supposed to be and I don't even realize it until someone points it out. So thank you! **

**Which reminds me; readers, pleeease don't hesitate to give constructive criticism! I write here so as not to get rusty, and getting criticism back from people is so very helpful. **

**Ch. 3: Hagalaz**

Hiccup couldn't move. Maybe if he could _find_ his body, he'd be able to move, but at the moment he wasn't quite sure where his arms were, or where his legs were, or which direction was up. But that was ok. He didn't need to move. He was fine right where he was, wherever that happened to be, in the dark and numb.

Well, ok, he was a _little_ cold. And maybe his shoulders hurt a bit. Maybe.

No… they _definitely_ hurt.

Now that he at least knew where his shoulders were, he tried to shift a little, but nothing happened. _Maybe if I use my eyes, I can see enough to move_, he thought. But when he opened his eyes, he saw a blurry mess of grey and black and brown, and could make out nothing. Nor could he move his head.

This was a bit too distressing, so he closed his eyes and tried to leave his senses behind, but now they were catching up to him. The pain in his shoulders was becoming sharper, and it was traveling down his arms to the tips of his tingling fingers. He could now feel his heartbeat pounding on the back of his right hand, which felt too warm. His left leg hurt, but that wasn't too unusual. He realized he had a troll-sized headache, getting worse with each heartbeat. And lastly, and most bitterly, he was freezing.

He tried opening his eyes again, and this time he was aware enough to realize that it was rather dark, and he was laying in snow. It had melted directly beneath him and water had soaked into his clothing. Hiccup was well aware of the consequences that came with being outside and wet in the winter, and suddenly death seemed like it might be a bit closer than he would have expected.

Focusing past the snow around him, he saw three blobs that slowly made themselves out to be Berserkers. The possibility of death took another giant leap closer, and Hiccup flinched. He figured sitting up would attract their attention, but if death didn't kill him, his shoulders surely would if he didn't try and relieve them.

As much of a struggle as sitting up turned out to be, he still couldn't make his shoulders feel better, owing to the fact that his arms were folded up behind his back and bound with the inevitable piece of devilishly rough twine. Hiccup almost called out to the Berserkers to let him go; _excuse me, I know you're holding me captive or whatever, but my shoulders really, really hurt, so can you untie my arms? _Of course his shoulders hurt, that's probably what they _wanted_. Or at least, he was sure they wouldn't care.

_Wait, I'm being held captive._

The complete gravity of the situation dawned on Hiccup and his mind froze for a moment. He didn't know what to start thinking first, or where to be looking, or what to be saying or doing. He had to escape, but the idea of escaping from a group of Berserkers seemed impossible, suicidal, and at the same time the only option of life he had. There was no way they'd let him live, at least no way they didn't have villainous plans for him. He _was _tied up, after all. Were Berserkers cannibalistic? Wouldn't they have chosen someone with more meat on them?

He had been the only human on the other side of the gate, though, at the battle. Maybe he was the only one they could nab. But they'd broken through, he remembered, right? He'd seen Stoick –

Stoick! His dad had been hit, that's why he and Toothless had – Toothless! Hiccup mentally slapped a palm to his face, gritting his teeth. The situation kept getting worse; what if they were hurt? What if they needed his help? What if they were _dead_? He spent a moment trying to remember all the events leading up to the present time, and realized that he had no idea where Astrid was. She'd been out in the woods with Gobber, at the same time the Berserkers had been there, if the howls he'd heard indicated anything. _What if they found her?_ Berserkers were anything but gentlemen, and if they found her in the woods…

Stoick, Toothless, Astrid, he had no idea if they were alive, hurt, dead, lost… here he was, tied up with a bunch of bloodthirsty madmen. He might get out of this, but what if the other three were dead? The thought made him shudder, and the cold needled further into his body. They wouldn't die. They'd be fine. They were the three toughest people he knew.

And these Berserkers were the most formidable force he knew of.

_Take stock,_ he thought, and raised his head. There were five Berserkers he could see, scattered about in front of him. They were inland, on a ridge in the woods. Great spruce roots twisted into the rock and disappeared into the snow. The Berserkers imitated the boulders, sitting still and silent. Hiccup had been told that the cold of the North didn't bother them, but these men were wearing layers of fur pelts, hunkered down in them exactly like a sane person would be doing in these temperatures. He could only see one man's face; thankfully, his eyes were closed. Dark stripes were strewn across his cheeks, and from his tangled blonde beard dangled black birdsfeet. He certainly _looked _like a Berserker.

Hiccup craned his head around, doing his best to ignore the forthcoming arm pain. Three more men behind him, all still and silent. Were they all really sleeping, exhausted from the earlier battle? If he tried to escape, they could follow his tracks in the snow, but could he make it back to Berk before they awoke? _No_, said his headache, which was still getting worse. _You'll collapse before you get halfway there. _

He knew his headache was probably right, but he had to try something, right?

_But the Berserkers will wake up and disembowel you, _his headache said.

Also probably true. But wouldn't they do that anyways?

His headache didn't respond. He took that as a sign from the Gods, and attempted to shift enough to get to his feet.

"Where ya goin', boy?" said a voice, and he jumped, eyes darting frantically for the speaker. There, a Berserker perched in a spruce tree a few branches up, staring down at him like a raven.

"Uh, me? Going? No no, sir, I was just, uh, shifting. My legs were falling asleep, they – " His panic was cut short as he caught a glimpse of his legs. Leg. His prosthetic was gone. After the uncertainty about Stoick, Toothless, Astrid, and the pain of his own situation, that was about the last straw. His panic was overshadowed by intense irritation, and with it came a shadow of relief.

"Ok, seriously, you _took_ my leg?" He realized he was talking to a man who could probably sit on him and crush his ribs, but he couldn't keep the incredulity out of his voice. "_Maybe_ you have a good reason for tying me in a knot like this, maybe you even have a decent excuse for throwing me in the snow to turn into a miniature Vikingsicle, but taking away my leg? Really? _Really?_"

The Berserker looked a little bemused. He also displayed the standard Berserker expression of 'I am going to remove your eyeballs and put hot coals in your sockets', but the 'bemused' was new.

"Loosing my first leg was bad enough, and now you go and…" Hiccup stifled his rant as the Berserker jumped from the tree, landing with an impressive _whump_, furs billowing. Now that the man was on the ground, approaching, he looked a fair bit more intimidating, not that he was in any way unimpressive before. Hiccup guessed that at this point he should probably shut his mouth, but, on second thought, this may be the last time he'd ever be able to speak again.

"And I don't get why you think you need to tie me up _and _take my leg_ and _throw me in the snow_ and _sit in a tree like that and watch me ,I'm like the size of your… well, I was going to say your arm or something but I'm smaller than your arm. I'm smaller than your arm, and you treat me like I have the ability to escape or something. My head was just telling me I'd probably faint after two minutes if I tried to hop away."

"Shut up, will you?" snarled a voice to his side, and he turned to see another Berserker, sitting up from his 'I'm a boulder' position. This man's red moustache was the most impressive piece of facial hair Hiccup had ever seen, and it was attached to a lip that was curled into a snarl that could probably curdle fresh cream. His cloak looked like a mass of wolf and fox tails stitched together. "Nobody cares about you, spawn of the deserters. Nobody cares about your cursed leg. I took it off and threw it into the ocean. And if you were a real Viking you wouldn't be bothered by a little snow. Next time I hear you whining I'll chop out your tongue. And eat it." After a glare that made Hiccup's heart skip a little, the man reassumed the boulder position, and presumably went back to sleep, or trance, or whatever it was Berserkers did.

Hiccup, back to being terrified, turned to the first Berserker, doing his best to look like anything other than the scummy spawn of deserters. The blonde man was regarding him, and Hiccup got the impression that the man was wondering if he'd be better roasted, boiled, or raw with a bit of ground rosemary.

"A bit young ta be a gimp. How'd ya loose your leg, boy?" he asked, and Hiccup blinked. The Berserker would never believe the real answer, but he said it anyway.

"I fell off a dragon into a fiery explosion after making the queen dragon explode and crash to the ground."

"Dragons, eh?"

"Yeah, dragons. You must have seen the Night Fury back there."

"That yours?"

"Y – … well, no. You don't 'own' a dragon."

"Then what's he to you?"

Hiccup didn't answer, not sure of why this Berserker was even talking to him. 'Small talk' didn't seem very Berserker-y. If he stared at his remaining foot in a sulky sort of way, there was a slight chance the man would go away, and not kick him in the head for not answering his question. A sudden crunching told Hiccup that the man was approaching him, and he flinched, expecting a blow. He heard the sound of a knife being unsheathed, and an extra pang of terror struck him. He was entirely unprepared for being stabbed. He imagined that was generally how it went with being stabbed.

Instead of slicing into his flesh, though, the knife sliced swiftly through the twine. The Berserker stepped back as Hiccup's arms fell, and he grit his teeth; the pain of sudden release dwarfed the pain of immobilized joints. Still, an unexpected act of kindness.

"What's the matter, there? Ya look like your worried we're gonna eat ya!" The blonde chuckled in what may have been a good-natured manner, and Hiccup looked up cautiously, slowly bringing his arms around to the front.

"Why _am_ I here?"

"Well if I told ya, it'd take away all the suspense."

"I'm good without suspense. I don't need suspense."

"How 'bout a drink then?"

"What?"

The Berserker reached into his robes and drew out a flask. Hiccup wasn't particularly thirsty, what with being soaked in icy water, but the man shook the flask at him, as if expecting him to take it; his eyes were twinkling mischievously. Maybe if he took it, the Berserker would take it as a sign of thanks for releasing his arms.

"Um," he said, and reached out slowly, willing his joints to forget the pain and move. "What is it?" he asked, gingerly taking a hold of it.

"Bear blood." Clearly, Hiccup could see, the Berserker expected him to drop the flask, gasp in horror, or otherwise prove himself a wuss.

"Bear blood," he echoed, shaking the flask experimentally. "You know, much as I love drinking blood, I think I'm good for now. Thanks, though." He handed it back, and the blonde man took it, thankfully.

"It'll make ya strong, though, boy. Looks like ya need a bit of meat on your arms. Ya could swim out and find your leg then!"

"Oh, come on …!" Hiccup threw up his arms in frustration, then winced, having forgotten that they still hurt. "I am _not_ that weak."

The Berserker regarded him.

"Ok fine, compared to… adult… or young adult… peoples of the North, I'm smaller… But I'll have you know, I can lift anvils!" He was quite proud of the fact, too.

"Right."

Hiccup just about sprung into another rant about the consequences of doubting his size and strength, but then he remembered he was facing a Berserker, not Gobber. Instead, he sighed, shivered, and wished Toothless would come crashing through the woods to save him. But Toothless had been hurt. He might be dead.

But… he heard something now.

Something was, indeed, crashing through the woods.

The blonde Berserker's face hardened, eyes turned flinty.

"On the alert!" he shouted. "Everybody up, it's coming!"

"What's coming?" Hiccup asked, but his voice was ignored, drowned out by the sudden awakening of the Berserkers around him. They sprung to their feet, shifting, tossing their shoulders, eyeing Hiccup and then squinting towards the sound. Hiccup didn't know if he wanted it to be Toothless or not. Sure, there was a chance he'd be saved, out of the grasp of these madmen. But Toothless was hurt; could he really take on this horde?

Someone hauled him up by his collar and shoved him forward, towards the noise. They all started marching, and Hiccup took a step with his stump, forgetting again that there was nothing there. He lurched forward, and the person with a grip on his shirt wrenched him up again.

"Woa, hey! Missing foot!"

They didn't respond, instead shoved him forward roughly. _Fine, I'll hop, _he thought, but that plan proved to be unfeasible. The terrain was too uneven, they were moving too fast. He stumbled, and was part carried, part dangled, part dragged for a few feet before the company stopped and he found solid ground. Everyone was silent, weapons raised at the ready, staring into the woods. Whatever was approaching through the spruce thicket did not care about a surprise approach.

"This thing spit fire?" someone asked.

"Lightning," the mustached Berserker answered.

_Oh, Odin,_ Hiccup thought, and despair welled in his chest. He understood now. They were holding him to attract Toothless. They knew the dragon would come for him. And now they were going to kill Toothless, or bind him, or do something else terrible, all because he'd let himself get captured. Helplessness paralyzed him and he wanted to call out and warn Toothless, but his vocal chords weren't responding, and besides, Toothless wouldn't be able to hear that anyways, not above the ruckus he was creating… Now that Hiccup thought it, the crashings were a fair bit louder than he would have expected. Toothless wouldn't be making that much noise…

He was sure of it now. Whatever it was was seconds away from bursting out into the open, and whatever it was it was going to be bigger than Toothless. It wouldn't be another dragon; they should all be spending the winter in the remnants of the volcano, where it was warm. What else would it be, though?

Involuntarily, he leaned away. He wished he could run.

In a burst of snapped branches and bending trees, something – definitely _not _Toothless – barged into view, bringing with it a billow of frosty air and a roar that shocked the Berserkers into silence and made Hiccup's bones vibrate. He couldn't believe it. He'd heard rumors, sure, especially from the elders of Berk. There was supposed to be two or three of these on the island, but he'd never seen one before, or heard one, or seen signs of one. He thought maybe they'd all been turned to stone or something. But no, apparently not all of them.

"Troll!" murmured the Berserker behind him, and Hiccup caught a hint of horror in the way the word was whispered. He didn't blame him. The troll's tough grey skin was impossible to penetrate, his spiked club longer than two cattle. Trolls were swift on their feet, despite their massive bulk, and it was very likely that the face of a troll will stop you dead in your tracks. The frost giants, they were called sometimes. Starvation, freezing, inhospitable lands, the vengeful spirits of the woods, it was all spelled out plainly in the roll of flashing eyes and the wild tangle of hair.

The Berserkers didn't move. Something had finally stopped them. They backed away slowly, clumping into each other, warily eyeing the beast in front of them. Hiccup wasn't sure what the troll was doing, because he was carefully not looking at it. He was small; maybe it wouldn't notice him.

It drew in a great breath, and released it in a tremendous bellow; Berk must have heard it clearly. A punch of glacial air swept over them, easily passing through Hiccup's thin shirt, through his skin, reaching for his core. His breath left him, and with it went the edge of the cold, but he was still left feeling frozen. The Berserker behind him tossed him to the ground like a used rag, and he clung to the ground; _snow_ almost felt warm now. He didn't care anymore that he'd been captured by Berserkers, or that there was a troll staring them down. He was _cold_, and he needed to get _warm_. Gobber's lesson floated briefly through his head: 'When out in the elements, if you're cold enough, you're not gonna care about food, or water, or the fact that your hand's been chewed off, or that your house is burnin' down. All your gonna think about is getting' warm again.' _Yes, but how?_

Sounds of battle reached his ears, and he flinched, crawled shakily to the nearest spruce, put the trunk between himself and the slaughter that was happening. There was no way any of the Berserkers were going to survive, and Hiccup only hoped that when the troll was done with them, it would go away and not notice the kid shivering behind the tree.

It didn't take very long. Or so it seemed. Maybe time passed quickly when you were concentrating on not freezing to death. His clothing had gotten stiff with ice and his skin was largely numb. He couldn't imagine much at the moment, especially not a good way out of this. When all the noise had died down, he waited a few moments before leaning around the trunk, wary of trolls. He couldn't see it, but then again, the sun was beginning to come up. As there weren't any new colossal boulders laying about, he thought it must have slipped away, or turned into a tree or log. Trolls were known to do that.

There were, however, plenty of dead Berserkers. Indisputably dead, from the looks of it. Lots of orphaned cloaks, then.

He flipped around onto hands and knees, crawling carefully toward the nearest body, which looked like it was wearing bear fur. He almost stopped halfway, the sensation of frozen clothing against his skin and snow under his palms too much. It was so close now, though. And getting closer. When he reached the body, he carefully didn't look at the remnants of the Berserker's head, and instead reached out two frozen, senseless hands to try to peel the cloak off the body. It was tied, and shoved under, and the knots were going to be impossible to undo with numb fingers. But the Berserker had a knife stuck in his belt, and after Hiccup cut the ties, he gingerly tucked the knife into his own belt.

But the cloak would not come out from under the great bulk of the dead Berserker. The other Berserkers were all so far away, too.

"No," he mumbled, feeling pathetic, leaning against the furry back. Too cold. He didn't want to die like this. It was squeezing him, squeezing him out of his own body, loosing sensation and numbing his mind. He couldn't escape it. Biting back a weak sob, he forced himself to think; a solution seemed so close, he was sure he could figure it out if he weren't so _cold_. He wouldn't be so cold, he thought bitterly, if he weren't so small.

Small… He drew out the knife again, pushing his fingers closed around the handle clumsily. The blade nicked his finger, and though he couldn't feel the cut, the blood was bright and obvious. Sharp blade. He leaned over the body in front of him and started slicing at the cloak. His muscles didn't warm with moving, but he kept slicing. After an exhaustive two minutes, he'd cut off all the cloak he could reach. The cloak was big enough, and he was small enough, that the bear skin wrapped around his shoulders.

He crouched, pulling the edges of the small cloak tight, waiting desperately for the first tiny sensations to come creeping back, waiting for a merciful wisp of warmth. Just as he was convincing himself that maybe he'd feel less like a snow sculpture sometime soonish, he heard another bellow, another howl, another noise from some beast in the woods, another threat for him to deal with. It didn't sound like any Berserker noises he'd heard yet. It wasn't terrifying enough to be a troll. He started to sink into the snow, willing to play dead until any danger had passed, but the undertones of the bugling noise stopped him.

This noise sounded desperate. Like a call for help. Like Toothless's frustration before he and Hiccup were friends, trying to escape from that sinkhole. _Pitch is different_, Hiccup reminded himself. It had to come from something smaller.

He considered not investigating. It was probably safer to just crouch here and warm up until he felt he could start moving. But the desperation in the call reminded him of the desperation he'd felt for warmth, not minutes ago. Yes, the bearskin was warming him up a bit. It was the most welcome feeling in the world, and though he was a long ways from being 'warm', he'd at least warded off death. Nerves tingling, waking back up, he reached for a broken spear, sunk in the snow. He pushed against it and hauled himself up.

**A/N: Don't worry, there's more than just a bunch of funny noises to the plot. **


End file.
